


i'm more than just a number

by theshipshipper



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, and sansa is to blame, idk there's nothing explicit but i do mention male genitals a lot sooòooooo, jon starts getting unsolicited dick pics, semi nsfw i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 11:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17745287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipshipper/pseuds/theshipshipper
Summary: Jon's not sure how someone got his number and thought it’d be the perfect fake number to give random guys hitting on them, but if he’s honest, he can’t actually be mad. Based on the limited knowledge he has on the guys sending him pictures of their genitals, giving out a fake number was the right move.If only he wasn't the one suffering for it.***Title from: Pretty Girl - Maggie Lindemann





	i'm more than just a number

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AliceInNeverNeverLand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceInNeverNeverLand/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by this [tweet.](https://twitter.com/starkspoon/status/1092289515874590721) :D
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it! :)

_Hey girl_ ,  _it’s Harry,_  it says.  _Wassup_ _?_

It’s sometime after midnight when he receives the text to change his life; he’s alone at the apartment buried in paperwork, scrambling for the absurd deadline Professor Baratheon has set for their class. while his friends are out partying at the local dive bar they frequented nearby.

He’s envious, but he at least has Sam on video call to commiserate.

His phone pings again.

 _Pretty girl, look what you do to me,_  the unknown sender texts, immediately followed by a badly taken picture of a penis.  _You want this?_

“What is it?” Sam asks suddenly through their call, possibly noticing the complete shock written all over his face.

What. The. Fuck.

“Someone just sent me a dick pic,” he says slowly, almost disbelieving.

 _I think you have the wrong number, bud,_ he texts. Just so the guy won’t be left hanging.

_Come on, baby. Don’t be such a tease. You know you want me._

He cringed. Seven fucking hells.

He snaps a photo of himself - shirtless, thick beard, messy hair, and all. It ought to be enough proof that he’s not, in fact, a pretty girl.

 

 **Unknown Number**    
wait   
wtf?

 **Jon**    
my thoughts exactly   
please stop messaging me   
you got the wrong number

 **Unknown Number**    
serious?

 **Jon**    
yeah

 **Unknown Number**    
sorry bro   
bitch must’ve given me the wrong number

 **Jon**    
If she did, I can definitely see why.   
BRO.

 **Unknown Number**    
go fuck yourself   
no one asked for your opinion   
bitch   
   


Jon scoffed. “Excuse me?” He mutters, tempted to fight the dumbass. 

He almost does until he remembers the ton of work he has yet to finish. With an annoyed huff, he throws his phone on the other side of the couch and continues working on his assignment.

 

*

 

“Gods, it must be so exhausting to be a girl,” Jon let out in frustration, shaking his head as he read through the latest barrage of dick pics popping up on his phone.

It’s probably been a month since he got that first stupid dick pic (that had a shitty fucking quality, if he’s honest. Really, fuck that rude asshole) and the numbers have only grown since. 

He’s not sure how someone got his number and thought it’d be the perfect fake number to give random guys hitting on them, but if he’s honest, he can’t actually be mad at them. Based on the limited knowledge he has on the guys sending him pictures of their genitals, giving out a fake number was the right move.

If only he wasn’t the one suffering for it now.

“What are you talking about?” Arya asked next to him, leaning over to look at his phone. 

Jon tilts his phone to show her his inbox. “What is it, like five in the afternoon? Who hits on people at this time?” He shakes his head. “Do you see that? Someone started using my number as their go-to Fake and I’ve been getting messages like this for weeks. My inbox is just full of unseen dick pics.”

Arya snorted before grabbing his phone to check for herself. She starts going through the unopened messages, laughing her ass off at each one of them before replying with a rate.

_4/100. NICE THUMB YOU GOT THERE._

“Don’t engage,” Jon said, though he only watches as she types out a few more replies. “You can’t win. If you reply, they’re just gonna send more pictures.”

“That’s just because you’re a noob. They won’t send more if you insult them well enough,” Arya said with a laugh. “They’ll just start calling you a bitch.”

 “Men,” Jon said with disgust, shaking his head as though he’s not one himself. “I can’t believe people are still doing shit like this.”

“Wait ‘til you see Sansa’s DMs,” Arya says, nonchalant, as she hands him back his phone. “She gets them in GIF form too.”

Jon turned to her in shock. “Sansa gets messages like these?”

Arya looks at him like it’s obvious and he supposes that it is. Just the number of guys he catches staring at her is enough to make him lose his mind, it just never occurred to him that there’d be people online bugging her too.

Something dark settles in the pit of his stomach; he knows how uncomfortable it makes her when guys so much as look her way, what more with random dudes sending her pictures of their penis.

It’s infuriating that he won’t be able to do anything about it. With guys who come up to her, he can at least threaten them with a glare – or worse. But what can he do to people he doesn’t even see. 

 

*

 

Sansa doesn’t know what she was thinking when she started giving Jon’s number to random guys who keep asking for hers, but she was drunk the first time it happened, Harry Hardying being his usual annoying self, and it was easier to give out a number she already has memorized instead of coming up with one on the spot.

She didn’t want to do it again, she promised herself she wouldn’t, but she somehow ends up using it anyway.

She felt a little guilty about the whole thing a first, especially whenever she saw Jon frowning at his phone or just shaking his head with a somewhat exasperated expression.  Just because she doesn’t want to deal with the unwanted come-ons from random guys who never know how to take ‘no’ for an answer, doesn’t mean Jon has to.

 But then he actually started having his fun with it; he started to come up with his own clever responses to the texts. At one point he even made personalized memes with Robb and theon, then sending them out to the ones who sent him pics.

In fact, when she gets home after spending hours at the library with Gilly, she finds the three of them in her shared apartment with Jon, huddled together on the couch and giggling at whatever it is they’re looking at on Jon’s phone.

“What are you boys up to?” She asks, though she sees the bottles of beer on the table and figures it must be a boys’ night in.

“We’re rating dick pics,” Robb freely admits, the exact four words she never thought she’d hear her brother say.

“You’re what?”

 “Jon still has unanswered dick pics on his phone and we’re having fun with them,” Theon tries to explain next, which doesn’t clear it up much.

 “That’s a weird way to phrase that,” Sansa notes as she comes up behind Jon on the couch, leaning over his shoulder to see what they mean. 

It’s a lot more confusing than they initially let on; they’re more than just rating them, they’re cross-sending dick pics to compare them with each other, explaining why the picture they sent is better than the sender’s  - and then they fight with whoever replies. 

 “So, let me get this straight. The three of you have been sitting here for the last – what - ” She cut herself off, looking between them in inquiry.

“About two, maybe three hours?” Jon answered thoughtfully, his cheek a rosy shade of red.

It’s an adorable look on him and she’s tempted to lean over and kiss him, just to see how it’d feel. She shakes off the thought immediately as it comes.

Much as she would like for something to happen between them, Jon doesn’t see her like that. She’s Robb’s little sister – off-limits, bro code, or whatever. Though they never had a relationship like he does with the rest of her siblings when they were younger, it doens’t mean he’d see her any differently.

In fact, the whole reason he let her move into his apartment in the first place was because he felt some odd sense of responsibility over her and knew how difficult it’d become once her roommate and former-friend, Margaery Tyrell, started dating her ex.

“Right,” she says, cutting off her train of thoughts while she still could. ”The three of you have been here – “

“Four,” Theon interrupts. “Gendry’s in the kitchen.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “The point is, you’ve all been here for the last three hours, staring at penises and trying to come up with a clever reply to those who sent them.”

“A savage reply,” Robb corrects. “The most savage of all savage replies to end all savage replies.”

“And we fight them.” Theon adds unhelpfully.

 

*

 

Sansa wasn’t sure when the truth would come out but she supposes Harry Hardying pestering her while she’s out drinking with friends has made things come full circle.

 “I’ve been hoping I’d see you here.” he slurs at her, smirking.

He’s visibly drunk, his eyes lingering on parts of her that he could see.

She takes a deep breath, forcing herself not to roll her eyes. “Were you?”

Harry laughs, shaking his head as though something about this is funny. “You’re such a fucking tease, Sansa, you know that?”

She glanced over at their table, almost instinctively, and she catches Jon’s eye. There’s a dark expression on his face but it clears once he sees her looking. He nods at her, the action meant to inquire if she’s okay. 

Most times she’d prefer to handle situations like this on her own; plenty of people has made her feel powerless in the past and she never wants to feel that again, but she’s had one too many drinks and she’s not actually sure what Harry’s capable of doing, so having backup in the form of Jon Snow is welcome.

She shakes her head to tell him that  _no, I’m not alright. I need you._

“This whole playing hard to get thing is getting old. You’re lucky you’re pretty or else I wouldn’t bother after that little trick of yours, making me send – “ He winces, like the memory physically hurts. “ - giving me some random number to text.”

 _Some people would take that as a sign they’re not interested_ , Sansa thought irritably.  _Not this dumbass, apparently._

“Did I?” She asked sweetly, trying not to just punch him in the face. Courtesy is armor.

“Well, unless you’re a guy and hiding a beard I don’t know about, then, yeah.” 

“Everything alright here?” Jon’s voice is low, threatening even, as he slides next to her. He gives Harry a once-over, but his gaze is soft when he turns to her. “You okay?” 

She nods, shifting so she’s closer to him and wraps her arm around his waist. It’s both for her comfort and his. He seems about ready to bite.

After a moment, she turns to Harry who’s staring at Jon with a mix of drunken confusion and annoyance. “Harry, this is Jon. I’m sure you recognize him.” Then to Jon. “Jon, this is Harry. You haven’t met but I believe he sent you a picture of his appendage at one point in time.”

Jon frowns at her in confusion, but she sees the moment realization hits. His face darkens even more and Sansa feels his body start to vibrate in anger. 

She made a face. Damn it, she forgot he’s been drinking too. He doesn’t usually drink but they’ve been egging him on all night and now he’s drunk  _and_  pissed.

She tightens her hold on him, rubbing his back in a bid to calm him down.

 _Down, boy_ , her touch seems to say.

“I – bro – I didn’t - ”Harry laughs drunkenly, waving his hand up in surrender. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend, man. I just – you know how it is - ”

 

*

 

“You could’ve at least let me throw one punch in,” Jon complained drunkenly as Sansa led him into his room.

The whole thing with Harry the Dick was hours ago but Jon can’t find it in himself to get over it. Sansa had stopped him before he could even aim at the guy, letting him off with just one final warning to leave her the fuck alone.

Jon would’ve liked to give that dude’s face a make-over for many reasons; for calling him a bitch, for calling her a bitch, for just existing anywhere near Sansa, really.

“You didn’t have to,” she repeats for possibly the hundredth time since. “He got the point.”

If he’d known all this time that those texts he’s been getting weren’t random at all – that they were meant for Sansa – he wouldn’t have found them funny. He’d have looked for e ery single one of those guys and murdered them.

“I could’ve made it clearer,” he insists as she directs him towards his bed.

“I know. Just sleep it off,” she suggests as they reach his bed.

She guides him down, making sure he’s comfortable before she moves to leave. He reaches for her hand before she can. Caught by surprise, she trips and lands on his bed, her face just a breadths away. 

His eyes fall to her lips immediately, like it has a mind of its own, and if he just moved a bit he’d be kissing her like he wants to.

“Jon.” Her voice is a husky whisper, her breath warm on his skin.

When he looks, he finds her staring at his lips too.  _Maybe she’s thinking what I’m thinking._

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he tells her so she can move away if she wants, but she leans down to kiss him before he could even a move.

It lasts for just a moment, their kiss soft and gentle. It almost even feels like a dream.

 “You look beautiful,” he blurts out when they pull apart, brushing her hair away from her face.

He decides it’s better than asking her to stay, like he wants her to. He may be drunk but he knows there’s meant to be a line here.

The sound of her laugh, soft and melodical, makes things flutter in his stomach. “How would you know? The lights are off.”

“You’re always beautiful,” he tells her. It’s easily the most honest thing he’s said in his entire life.

 “You’re drunk,” she says, as if in sudden realization. She stands up to leave but he’s still holding onto her.

“Doesn’t mean I’m lying, though.” He sighs sleepily and rubs the back of her hand. “I wish you didn’t have to be so strong all the time. I’d take care of you, if you’d just let me.”

 

*

Sansa couldn’t sleep that night, Jon’s words endlessly echoing in her mind.

_I’d take care of you._

The words seem too good to hear; a part of her is afraid she ust imagined the words coming out of his mouth. His voice was low when he said it, sleepy and rough. She could’ve heard him wrong.

_If you’d let me._

She’s not used to hearing him say things like that; she’s used to him showing his intentions, not speaking them outl loud. Devoid of any other interpretation. She wonders if there’s any truth to them or if he’d just mistaken her for someone else. Either way, the words has made the butterflies flutter madly in her stomach and it  doesn’t seem to want to stop.

And he wanted to kiss her too, didn’t he? That should count for something.

“Okay, what is up with you?” Arya asks a few weeks later, arms crossed and staring Sansa down.

 “What do you mean?” 

Her sister gives her a flat stare. “You’ve been avoiding Jon all week. What did he do that was so terrible? He thinks you hate him.”

Sansa’s genuinely surprised to hear that last bit. “He didn’t to anything and of course I don’t hate him, that’s ridiculous,” she said, aggravated. “Why would he think that?”

“You tell me. He’s been hanging out at Gendry’s the past few days, apparently trying to give you some space.”

Sansa paused. She has noticed that he’s been out more often than not. She assumed that he’s  been avoiding her; she figured he remembers the things he told her and regrets it.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Of course you don’t because you’ve both been acting like idiots.” Arya twisted in her seat to face her. “So, tell me what happened. “

Sansa fights against it for a moment and loses to herself.  “I’m in love with him.”

It had to come out eventually. She turns to Arya self-consciously, expecting her sister to make fqces and tell her it’s disgusting, ut she seems to still be waiting for the punchline.

Finally, she says: “Okay. And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and’?” She huffed, sliding further down the couch. “I’m in love with Jon.”

“Well, what do you expect me to say? It’s not like it’s news. Did you think you were discreet?” 

“Well... yeah.” She paused. “He told me he’d take care of me.”

“How’s that a bad thing?”

“It’s not,” Sansa admits. “But I don’t know – he was drunk when he said it, he might not have - ”

“Don’t be crazy,” Arya cut off before he could finish it. “It’s Jon, of course he meant it.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

Arya slides down so they’re at eye level. “What’s the big deal? You like him, he likes you, so - ”

“You don’t know that he does, not for sure,” Sansa cut off.

“No.  _You_  don’t know. I swear you two are the only ones who doesn’t know you’re gone for each other.”  Arya shakes her head. “Let me give you advise. Stop avoiding him, it’s pointless and completely unnecessary.”

*

Jon waits a little after midnight to head home; Sansa’s a nocturnal creature so she’s still usually awake at this time, but she has an early class tomorrow so he figures it would be safe to come in. Instead, she’s on the couch with a mug of coffee in hand. He stands there for a second, scrambling for an excuse or apology or -

 _Something_.

He was an idiot for letting himself slip up that night. Granted, he was drunk, but still.  

“Sorry. I thought you’d be asleep,” he reasoned, looking at her apologetically. “I’ll just go to -”

“Did you mean it?” 

He stops to stare at her for a second. He wasn’t expecting her to open it up but now that he’s looking at her – wearing her favorite pair of sweats, his Winterfell High hoodie, Ghost on her lap, and that determined Stark look on her face – he should have figured it out.

“I did,” he breathes out. He shifts on his feet. “I do.”

:Why?”

Her mask is up; he can tell she’s trying hard to keep her emotions in check but it doesn’t work anymore. He knows her too well for it to work. He also knows that it’s a defence mechanism and he’s not sure why she thinks she needs to keep up the pretence with him.

He takes a deep breath and walks toward her, stopping once he’s right in front of her. 

 _Here it goes,_  he tells himself. 

He kneels down. “Maybe because no matter how hard I try, I just have this need to protect you. To take care of you.” He swallowed, hard, trying to brace himself for the words he’ll say next. “And maybe because I’m completely and wholeheartedly in love with you.”

She takes a shaky breath. “Why?”

He bites down a smile; somehow, he’s not surprised his confession is going this way. 

“Because you’re you,” he starts simply. “You’re smart, clever, you’re the kindest, most caring person I’ve ever met - and you may be annoying half the time and we may argue nonstop on the other, but I wouldn’t change that for the world.” He takes her hand hesitantly, waiting for her to take it away, but she doesn’t. “Sansa Stark, you twist me in a way no one else can and I – I won‘t have it any other way.”

“I want to believe you,” she tells him in a small voice, eyes not meeting his. “Believe me, I do. It’s just - ”

“It’s difficult for you, I know,” he finishes for her, rubbing her hand soothingly. “I know about Joffrey and Harry and all the other guys in between – I know every excruciating details, down to the dick pics. I know it’s hard for you to trust anyone. I get it. But I don’t mind proving that you can put your faith in me, because you can.”

She stares at him for a second, quiet and contemplative. Then she nods. “Okay.”

He lets himself smile now. “Yeah?”

“I already do trust you, Jon. That’s not what this is,” she assures. “I’m just... afraid.”

He plants a soft kiss on the back of her hand. “You don’t have to be. It’s still just me,” he tells her with a slightly teasing smile. “The only difference is now you know I’m in love with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> That last bit was a little throwback to Kit's interview bc I just love it so much. Thank you for reading!


End file.
